Page 17 of Light As A Feather
“What?
“Get up. I’m not doing this bullshit where you lock me out. We’re not going back to sleep until you give me some answers.”
I’m trapped, locked at his side against my will. And yet, this is the most at peace I’ve felt in years.
The steady certainty of him is tempting, I’ll admit. What I wouldn’t give to be able to rest my head on his shoulder, allow him to embrace me, and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I wish that I could allow myself the comfort he offers.
I can’t afford that. We can’t.
Sharp acidity heightens my awareness as I take my first sip of the iced coffee, but it’s not overpowering because he’s cut it with the perfect amount of creamer and cinnamon, just how I’ve always liked. “You remembered.” I hum with appreciation.
“I remembereverything.” Hawthorne leans forward, cupping his palms around his warm mug. “No hot drinks; only iced. A three-count of creamer. Half a tablespoon of cinnamon.Glass cup, but not clear. A rim with some texture to it.” His eyes flick down to the amber chalice-like vessel I sip out of.
Tracing the carved edge of the lip, I attempt to distract myself from the sentimentality that threatens to overwhelm me. It’s been forever since anyone’s known even my real name, let alone the way I like my coffee. A simple thing that has the power to destroy my self-control. “Thank you.”
His smile is wry, but the debate is clear in his eyes—will he push me or allow me to go at my own pace?Some things never change. That’s the problem with playing chess with the only partner you’ve ever had. At some point, you know all of each other’s moves, can anticipate any potential strategy.
With a rap of his knuckles on the table, his decision is made. He’ll play along…for now.
“If nothing else, I’m a good host.” Thorne leans back, his arm hooking over the edge of the chair. His posture is the picture of cool and collected, but the impatience in his eyes gives him away. “How do you like the changes to the house?”
“It’s beautiful. Well, at least judging by the glimpses I got while being hastily shuttled from one room to the other.” Taking another sip, I allow the creamy coffee to coat my words in sugar. “It would be much easier to explore if I wasn’t kept in handcuffs.” Rubbing at the skin on my wrist, I don’t have to force a wince of pain. My sensitive skin is red and inflamed. “Can we please be done with these?”
A slow nod gives away his agreement before he’s come to terms with it. “Fine. Since you asked so sweetly, I’ll uncuff you.” Slipping the key out of his pocket, he fits it into the tiny lock. His thumb sweeps over the irritated skin, and his brow furrows in tandem with mine. And yet, he hesitates, then brings my knuckles to his mouth. With his lips on my cold skin, he swears, “I promise you this, if you try to leave me again…” Our eyes meet as he formulates his warning, so I get to watch the eager gleam ofchallenge overtake the somberness I just saw there. “If you ever try to leave me again, I’ll fuck you so hard, so deeply,so wholly, that you won’t be able to walk, let alone escape.” The click of the disengaged lock punctuates the vow.
When I jerk my hand back, he doesn’t resist.
“I gave you what you wanted; now it’s your turn. I think I’ve earned some answers. Don’t you agree?”
The worst part is that Iwantto tell him everything. I want to throw all my thoughts, fears, and struggles on the table and let him hold them in his gentle hands. I know that they’d be safe with him.But he’s not safe with me.
I also know that I can’t keep everything from him. A compromise is the only way forward for now. Although finding the middle ground is easier said than done.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
I shake my head; a silent negotiation he understands well.
“Let’s start with where you’ve been.”
Everywhere but where I belong.I allow the thought to hold space for a few seconds before I dismiss it. I’ve been everywhere and nowhere, so few places meaning anything. So few efforts making any difference. Summarizing so much time while keeping my secrets doesn’t come easily. He gives my thoughts time to breathe as he finishes his coffee.
Backlit by the porch light streaming through the broad windows, one half of his face is presented in sharp definition, while the details of the other are softened with the candle that flickers between us. He’s something out of a dream despite this situation being a nightmare. Part of me wants to memorize every detail that’s developed with age, the other urges me to look through him, not to solidify the picture I carry of him in my mind, no matter how hard I try to forget him.
“Why does it matter where I’ve been? I’m here now, aren’t I?”
There’s a twitch of frustration in his sharp jawline. “Only because I found you and dragged you back?—”
“I think the word you’re looking for is kidnapped. But I guess I didn’t put up much of a fight.”
“And why was that?” An agitated finger drums against his mug. “I could have been anyone. Anything could have happened to you. Why didn’t you try harder to escape?”
The walls of steel I’ve built around me tremble at his calculated prodding. Taking a long sip, I let the harmonious balance of sweet bitterness coat my throat, hoping it will help the lies I want to tell come out easier. “Maybe I’m tired of running. Maybe I don’t see a point in trying to save myself anymore.” The truth rushes past my lips. I’ve never met a secret I could keep from him.
The breath he sucks in is lightning, slicing the air. His teeth grinding together is the warning thunder before a storm. “Loving you, protecting you, is the only thing that’s ever mattered.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” I fight against constricting vocal cords doing their best to strangle me into silence. My throat works roughly as I try to force what I want to say out. “It’s no way to live. You revolving your entire world around me—my problems, my needs, my magnetism for darkness.I attract bad things.”
